Patricide
by lalonso2
Summary: In her blood lust, she lost her purpose. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she did the unthinkable. Now, with Chrom dead by her hands, the future is as bleak and uncertain as the world she came from. While she laments her actions, Robin must take it upon himself to salvage the remainder of the Shepherds and stop a war that threatens to consume the entire world.


**Prologue**

She was having the time of her life.

She wasn't expecting to have defeated Lon'qu, the former champion for Basillio. Lon'qu was a powerful swordsman; perhaps even more skilled than her own father. In fact, Lon'qu was second in line of becoming the West-Khan, should Basillio himself fall in battle or resign from his position. Lon'qu was that powerful.

In her future, Chrom was unable to defeat the myrmidon. He was outclassed in every way, and Ylisse was forced to fight against Plegia without the support of Regna Ferox. Without Regna Ferox's support, Plegia was able to easily plow through Ylisse's feeble defense. It all culminated to the assassination of Exalt Emmeryn, her late aunt. This was the catalyst that forced Regna Ferox into the war, but by then the events that led to Grima's resurrection had already played out.

She would not allow Grima to destroy this world. She came here for that purpose. Nothing else was important. Defeating Lon'qu in battle was just one of the many changes that needed to occur to reverse the terror that plagued her future.

She knew she couldn't defeat Lon'qu, either. When they crossed blades, he vastly overpowered her with his speed and technique, forcing her to parry his attacks haphazardly. Her own technique, which she inherited from her father, primarily focused on overwhelming with brute force. But sheer power meant nothing if she could not hit her target.

She herself was reasonably fast. She was always able to out-speed her father during their training bouts. But that was when she was much smaller and younger, capable of entering bursts of speed that blinded all those who observed. However, Lon'qu was much faster. He was superior to her in every way. By all means, he should have won this match handily. Yet, there was one wildcard that Lucina was banking on throughout their match. One final gambit she hoped would turn the tide in her favor.

Her gender.

Lon'qu's rumored gynophobia was well known throughout all of Ylisse. He had fought in Mad King's War, the Valmese Suppression, and the Grimleal Insurrection, so stories of his triumphs and shortcomings were widespread among the troops of both sides. Among the shortcomings, there was a noticeable drop in combat proficiency when his opponent was female. He claimed that he was able to suppress his fear of women in a life-or-death situation, but as her friend and fellow survivor Kjelle put it, he could never truly rid himself of that fatal flaw.

That was the future.

Now, Lon'qu was merely Basillio's right hand man. Only the Western Feroxi knew of Lon'qu's limit. But, armed with the knowledge of Lon'qu's greatest fault, Lucina was ready to surprise the world and demonstrate her worth.

Her gamble paid off.

During their battle, Lon'qu's technique was becoming more and more predictable. He was subconsciously realizing that he was actually fighting a woman (years of experience allowed his body to determine an opponent's identity without the need to exchange words), and the results were shown through his gradually declining performance. His thrusts were no longer precise to the tee. He was no longer slashing at vital organs and applying heavy pressure through quick, deliberate strikes. More importantly than that, however, was that he did not truly notice his own drop in potential. Rather, he was seeing Lucina grow more skilled as the battle progressed, countering his own strikes with speedy blows that "met" or "exceeded" his speed. Eventually, frustration made its way into his blade, and that was the advantage Lucina needed to seize the moment.

Now, here she was. Exchanging blows with a different opponent.

Her father.

Chrom was significantly younger than she remembered him to be. That made sense, of course, as she had not yet even been born into this world. Chrom was slightly faster as such, but he also retained the destructive force he was known for. There was a reason why he was most likely to destroy training material during friendly spars.

Her original intent was to deliberately lose to Chrom, so that he may win the support of Flavia and East Ferox. But she was slowly losing herself to the prospect of fighting her own father. She had not done something like this in so long! Not since before he was killed…

She missed this feeling she had. The euphoria she had of spending time with her beloved family. She had already saved her aunt from the spontaneous Risen assault, and that alone was enough to lift her spirits. Seeing Aunt Lissa again after years… Even Owain's sword hand would have stilled for such a momentous occasion.

She almost chuckled behind her mask when Chrom had asked her who her father was. She could only imagine the look on his face if he discovered that he was actually her father, that he will be the one who taught her everything she knew, and that his sword would be inherited to her when he died…

Lucina shook those thoughts out of her head as she dodged a cleaving slash with a roll. The force of the attack was enough to splinter the ground below, launching dust onto her butterfly mask. Fortunately, the mask shielded her eyes well, preventing the dust from obscuring her vision and giving her a handicap. But…maybe she did want that handicap? Wasn't the plan for her to lose on purpose? Anything that would lead to that goal would be fair game.

But she didn't want Chrom to discover her identity yet. If she removed her mask during the middle of their battle, just to allow some speck of dust to block her vision, she would risk the possibility of Chrom questioning her true identity. She could not freely hide the Brand of the Exalt embedded onto her left iris. Chrom would most certainly be aware of the "minor" detail, and that would arouse questions pertaining to her true heritage.

She could easily rebut any arguments pertaining to her own Falchion by simply calling it a "quality counterfeit." She had already convinced Basillio that she was a sellsword with delusions of grandeur. In his eyes, she made herself out to be just as magnificent as the Hero-King of legend. She could tell others that a hero like herself needed a blade as fitting. Her brand, on the other hand…

That was directly _on_ her left iris. There was no conceivable method of instilling a tattoo onto a person's eyes.

Lucina shook her head. She needed to stop thinking. Not while she was fighting against her father. They circled around the other, eyeing each other for any potential creaks in their armor.

The two swordsmen rushed at each other, twin swords in hand and blocked every one of the blows the other was unleashing. Every slash that Chrom dealt was being countered by Lucina's own. When she tried to retaliate, Chrom would also block and attack. It was difficult to have an edge in this battle, when her fighting style was derived directly from the man that she was facing.

Chrom had an idea that Lucina's style was a carbon-copy of his own. Even the power required for some of these attacks was sufficient. Although Lucina had a unique idle stance, holding her blade parallel to her chest at a downwards angle, her katas for performing many of these attacks were near identical to his own. It was the only logical conclusion to question the origins of the mysterious person, since Lucina's "act" was far too precise to be mere coincidence.

Lucina started to hop sideways repeatedly in an attempt to throw Chrom off of her real intentions. However, Chrom was not an amateur warrior. He knew of what Lucina was trying to accomplish, and merely increased his own guard. Lucina, finding that her attempt at psychological warfare was not working, decided to simply stop trying to confuse Chrom with her quick movements, and proceeded to just continue to monitor his actions.

Lucina tightened the grip on her Falchion when she noticed Chrom's footwork suddenly shift messily. Not one to back down from an opportune moment, Lucina rushed down Chrom with a powerful lunge.

Chrom opened his eyes in surprise and attempted to parry. His guard was clumsy, and the sword grazed right through and cut his arm. His right arm was not protected at all, bear to the touch. The new wound was a nasty looking gash that was rapidly bleeding out, but Chrom would not relent. Taking advantage of Lucina's overstretched, defenseless body, Chrom balled his left fist and solidly punched Lucina in the mask.

Even the force of his punch was enough to send Lucina quite the distance. The mask had cracked from the impact, and bits and pieces were dropping to the ground. Recovering from her disorientation, she barely had enough time to register that Chrom had leapt into the air and falling at her with a downward stab.

Hastily, Lucina rolled out of the way. The impact of Chrom landing on the ground was enough to produce a miniature earthquake, causing Lucina's body to jump into the air. This man was not holding anything back! He was more than willing to kill Marth if it meant that Ylisse's future would be secured, regardless of whatever debt he may hold to his person.

Unfortunately for Chrom, he had lodged his sword deep into the ground. He struggled to release it from its newfound pedestal, but he was starting to feel weak from his overexertion and from the rapid blood loss from his arm. He had about half of the strength from when he first engaged against Lucina, and he was beginning to pant heavily.

It was time to end this. That was the thought that ran through Lucina's head. He was an enemy, and he needed to be defeated. The sheer adrenaline of the battle was grasping control of her body.

'No!' A thought crossed her mind. 'That's right…Chrom is supposed to win! Not me!' Still, her logic could not prevent the chain of events from unfolding. By the time she thought about what she was supposed to do, she was already committed to the complete opposite.

Her legs moved on its own now, powered by the desire to defeat the powerful opponent in front of her. She had to do it. She needed to end him. That's how she was going to become stronger!

As her mask crumbled before her…only then did she see the results of her own actions.

* * *

One slash.

That's all Robin saw.

One slash.

The horizontal motion of the blade carried with it the blood of the man that it slew.

Chrom's blood.

Chrom saw the blade coming. His eyes widened in shock as the realization of what was to be finally caught onto his mind. But before he could even express his opposition, his vocal chords filled quickly with his own blood. Chrom tried desperately to claw at his own throat, hoping in some way to recover from the wound inflicted by Marth. But the chocking sounds and the feeling of suffocation had indicated otherwise. Holding out his hands as wide as he could, as if trying to reach for something, Chrom finally felt his life leave him and he collapsed on the floor.

It was then that time had begun to flow again.

"CHROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" Robin shouted at the top of his lungs. Robin had separated from his partner and ran as fast as he could to be by Chrom's side. "Chrom! No, please no…Say something…anything!" Robin could feel the tears falling from his face. Or was that some of Chrom's blood spraying on his cheeks? He couldn't tell. He just held on to his friend's lifeless body, depressing thoughts easily overriding rational ones. He shook Chrom over and over, hoping that this was all a sick twisted dream, and that he would wake up and say something witty. "There are…there are better places to sleep…then on the ground, you know?" Robin struggled to say, his voice being chocked by the coming sobs.

He did not hear Marth drop his sword. He could not hear the footsteps of his friends coming by his side, trying to see if Chrom was truly okay or if he had…if he had…

Each successive shove grew steadily weaker, and the grim reality of Chrom's fate slowly kicked into gear within Robin's mind. His white undershirt and tactician's robe had become soaked with Chrom's blood, and Robin's scent had mixed with the grotesque odor of iron. Eventually, he started to hear everything again.

He could hear Frederick cry out "Milord!" Over and over again. Frederick was responsible of taking care of the Exalt's sibilings, and although he may have taken his job a little too seriously, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the ever-reliable Great Knight was deeply fond of Chrom and Lissa. Now that Chrom was taken from him, he must be going through some immense grief and feelings of guilt.

He could hear Lissa's cries of anguish at the death of her beloved older brother. Her brother may have been a masculine knucklehead and bit overprotective of her, but she loved him regardless of his faults. He was always there to protect her when the other nobles would pick on her for her visible lack of the Brand, and he always praised her for every one of her accomplishments. He was even the man who convinced her to pursue the healing arts. But now…

Sumia, Robin's partner during the battle at Arena Ferox was crying as well. Robin was no stranger to the hints of romance brewing between the kind-hearted klutz and the stalwart leader. She must be dealing with the reality of his untimely demise just as badly as everyone else. Her eyes were becoming beady and red from the sheer excess of tears flowing out.

Vaike did not have any wisecracks for this moment. In fact, if it were any other occasion, Robin would have been completely shocked that Vaike had nothing to say. He always had something to say for every moment, but the death of his greatest rival warranted even serious emotions from him. He had bit his lower lip, trying to hold off the tears that were nonetheless coming from his eyes. Not even his unwritten code was enough to soothe the torrent of emotions he was going through.

Every one of the Shepherds who joined him in the battle today were aware that they could die at any moment, but they had not even expected or anticipated the possibility that Chrom may die. Robin's tactics had ensured that the battles they had fought up until this point were generally void of any serious casualties, aside from battle injuries or fatigue. But…they all had underestimated Marth. Vastly underestimated.

And Marth…Marth had the audacity to even remotely express _remorse _for his actions! Robin saw the stunned look of disbelief, as if he wasn't already aware that he had committed the deed! How dare he!

HE WAS THE ONE WHO KILLED CHROM!

HE IS THE ONE WHO SHOULD DIE!

With that resolution in mind, Robin tightly gripped his bronze sword and lunged at Marth. He did not care that Marth was not armed to protect himself. He did not care that he was unmasked right now, and that the tears on his eyes were genuine. HE WAS GOING TO DIE TODAY!

With each step, as Robin grew closer to Marth, he did not even bother to think about all of the consequences that could occur from this action. He did not consider that Chrom was a superior swordsman to himself, and that falling to a man of higher skill equated to Robin standing no chance against Marth. Screw logic and reason. Robin was out for the blood of the so-called "Hero-King."

He would not get far. He felt a palm grasp his throat. Robin chocked at the action, quickly losing his breath as his body was being lifted from ground by his neck. Robin tried in vain to remove the hold of his neck, and he looked more like a pathetic cat, grabbed by the skin from the back of its neck.

Around the party, Feroxi myrmidons had surrounded the party, who continued to grieve Chrom's death. They were mildly surprised at Robin's brash actions, but they did nothing to try and stop him from exacting just revenge. He was sure some of them were hoping that Robin would be successful at killing Marth.

"Hey! What's the big idea now, huh? My champion beat your leader, so that means I won the tournament! Have you no sportsmanship?" The burly man said. He was a towering figure, even taller than even Frederick in full armor, and the man was wearing half of that. He was equipped with the generic Warrior attire, a furred leotard that exposed his chiseled midriff. His right eye was covered in an eye patch, but Robin could assume that such a "handicap" was of no real issue to the man.

He was extremely powerful. He was holding up Robin's full body several centimeters from the ground with only one arm. His arm was not shaking from exertion or wavering in the slightest, and his grip was not slipping. Robin could not see any real method of escaping, but that did not stop him from trying to stare daggers at the man.

Apparently the man did not appreciate Robin's gesture. So he greeted him by slamming his body onto the ground. Robin tried to cry out in pain, but the palm still closed off his vocal cords, so he could only widen his mouth in horror at the intense pain he was now feeling.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Vaike attempting to reach for his axe. But the myrmidons drew their blades closer in a gesture of warning, forcing Vaike to back down from his original intent. Robin would not have wanted him to attack, anyways. In such a position as this, it was best to comply with the wishes of the winning party, lest he risk the utter and complete annihilation of his group. One death was already enough.

Robin started to cough loudly, prompting the man to loosen his grip. Robin fell on the ground and quickly reached for his neck. He coughed profusely, trying to catch up on all the air he lost during the chokehold. Lissa tried to rush to his side, but the wary myrmidons were persistent in maintaining their alert, so she simply stood in place and comforted her brother's dead corpse.

"Now then, I believe you are thinking a bit more clearly, no?" The man said. He spoke with such authority that Robin assumed he was the leader of the new group that appeared, but Robin was not going to leave such things as assumptions, just like he did with Flavia.

"Who…*cough cough*…who are you…*cough cough cough*" Robin struggled to say amidst his coughing.

"Now we are getting into a sensible conversation!" The man replied. "I am Basilio, the West-Khan of Regna Ferox and the recent victor of this tournament! Now, my question to you is this: why would you attempt to kill my champion if the tournament had ended?"

'Isn't it obvious?!' Robin had desperately wanted to scream. Chrom had just died! His murderer was standing right there, staring at his body with false remorse and regret! He's doing a disservice and disrespect to his name!

But Robin knew better. He had his calculating, analytical mind and rational thought process going, and the moment did not call for losing his emotions again. He needed to be strong right now, not just for Chrom, but for everyone else who was too mortified to do anything.

"I…I had a momentary lapse of judgment upon the death of my comrade…" Robin had worded after much deliberation on what he should say. "I was not aware of my own actions until you had forcibly suppressed me."

"Much better. Although, a little word of advice: in war, people die. Don't let that get to you, unless you want to die yourself. And when I had you in the air, it would not have taken much effort for me to snap your neck, do I make myself clear?"

Robin winced at the thought. Basilio was right; His grip on Robin's neck was like a guillotine. All he needed to do was apply pressure and Robin probably would have joined Chrom in the afterlife.

"Crystal."

"Dammit, I was really hoping that the Exalt's little brother would have been strong enough to win this tournament…" Flavia, the Shepherds' sponsor for the tournament, said in an apathetic tone. "I heard reports on how soundly he and his little group had defeated Raimi at the southeastern border fortress. I was kinda getting hopeful."

"You should have known better, Flavia. My boy Lon'qu is definitely on his way to being West-Khan. Anyone that could best him is undoubtedly getting my sponsorship for the tournament."

"I could tell. You did use him in the last tournament, if I recalled correctly."

"And if I recalled correctly, your last champion died too."

"Well, he wasn't strong enough, so that's to be expected."

Robin could not believe what he was hearing from Flavia. She did not even express slight sorrow at the death of her champion! She was treating this catastrophe as…some sort of business transaction gone sour!

He wanted to scream at her. Slap some sense into her. Tell her to be a gods damn human being and have some empathy. But he knew he should be silent now. History was written by the victors, and that quote could not have been truer for this moment.

"Dammit oaf…where'd you find this one?"

"Oh, Marth? He came outta nowhere and said he wanted to be my champion. Naturally, I laughed at him, but since I am a giving man, I gave him the opportunity to demonstrate his worth. Color my surprise when he comes and defeats Lon'qu in a one-on-one battle of blades! When he offered his services to me, how could I not refuse?"

"But why you? Why couldn't he come to me? I would have won this tournament for sure."

Robin clenched his fist tighter. Flavia's apathy was really unnerving him. Of course, his minor gesture did not go unnoticed.

"Kid, is there a problem?" Basilio asked with a raised eyebrow.

'There was a problem.' Robin thought. But he could not allow his true feelings get the better of him during this time. He was the de facto leader of the Shepherds now. He could not risk anything.

"…I'm just…I'm just not used to losing…" Robin lied. He knew better than to comply like a little coward to Basilio's every demand. He could guess that it would not sit very kindly to complacency.

"He died. Get over it." Flavia retorted. An obvious provocation. Robin would not fall for her snide remarks, even if she really meant it. Which, at this point in the conversation, was pretty evident.

"Speaking of death, Regna Ferox expresses its sincerest apologies at the events at hand. Note that Chrom did comply with Flavia, East Khan's representative, to represent her during the tournament, and that he knew full and well the repercussions of his actions. I do not expect any retaliation from Ylisse in response to this tragedy. If Ylisse does choose to go to war, however, Regna Ferox will have no qualms with fighting back."

"Understood. As de facto leader of the Shepherds, I will relay this message to Exalt Emmeryn post-haste." Robin forwarded. "However, don't apologize to me." He pointed at Lissa, who was holding her brother. "Apologize to her. You did take her brother from her."

"Woah. Don't confuse me with Marth. I done nothing to her. And as much as I really don't want to abide by your wishes, I know full and well the pain of losing a precious sibiling. Marth! Apologize to the Shepherds!"

The entire Arena went silent in anticipation for Marth's apology. Even the spectators on the stands above ceased their idle conversations. They were far more interested to see if a possible war would come about the events that just transpired.

Marth must have noticed all of the eyes turning on him. He bent over to pick up his broken mask, which shattered further into bits upon contact with his hands. Robin could not see his face directly, as his back was turned against everyone, but he could tell that Marth was heavily affected by his murder of his opponent.

"No." Was what Marth said.

"No?" Basilio repeated flabbergasted.

"No. I don't deserve their forgiveness."

Robin's emotions were conflicted at this point. He may have wanted an apology from Marth for his actions (since he could not get proper justice, considering the situation that he was in), but Marth was right in one aspect: he did not deserve forgiveness. His apology would have been null should he ever granted it, but it was a formality he should have engaged in.

"Don't be absurb." Basilio said. "These people _deserve_ an apology. Unless you want to die by their hands. Which I won't allow."

"I came here…to save the world…" Marth uttered to himself.

"Come again?"

"I wanted…to save the world…but look at what I've done! Why did I kill him?!"

"It was spur of the moment, Marth." Basilio reassured. "Nothing could have been done."

"Then…then I'm a monster…I killed him…"

'That's right…you are a monster.' Robin thought in spite. Marth began to walk away from the crowd. Basilio tried to reach and grab his arm, but Marth shrugged it away.

"Where are you going?" Basilio asked.

"Leave me be! You are not my…*hic*…my…*hic*…father…"

With that, Marth had exited the arena, leaving a dumbfounded Basilio and Robin gawking at his departure. Was…was Marth actually crying? Did Chrom's death truly affect him in such an emotional depth? Why would he, a mysterious sellsword that came literally out of the blue, be even remotely concerned with the life of the Exalt's little brother? Robin was sure he could capitalize on the death and make a quick coin.

Who…who was he really?

"Well…that certainly was awkward." Basilio said. "With all said and done, get the hell out of my arena!"

"W-wait!" Robin said, trying to salvage whatever diplomatic relationship he had with Regna Ferox. "Could you listen to the plight of Ylisse?"

"Hmm…I have some time before the debaucheries start. Sure, why not."

"Ylisse has been going through some rampant brigand attacks for several months now. Unfortunately, our military is still fragmented from the Grim War, and has only begun to make repairs to its internal structure. The only force we have to fend of these bandits, the Shepherds, are now leaderless, and even then we could only support so many villages at one time."

"Okay. Your point?"

"Ylisse is requesting military aid from our benevolent allies of the north to stave off the bandits, at the very least."

"Regna Ferox will not provide any assistance to Ylisse in the time being, unfortunately." Basilio said with conviction.

"W-what? Why not?" Robin pleaded. The rest of the Shepherds looked distraught at the denial. Not only did Chrom die, but they were going to fail their mission as well? The one entrusted to them by their beloved Exalt.

"There's nothing for us to gain in helping you. Sure, we'd get your 'eternal gratitude.' But what is that physically? Will it be used to improve the wellbeing of the Feroxi people? The answer is no."

"But we would be in your debt! You could request for our assistance at any time and we would be hard-pressed to deny you!"

"Assistance?" Basilio scoffed. "What do you have to offer, huh? A military in shambles? An empty treasury? A politics-driven marriage alliance? You have nothing that the Feroxi want, and at this point, we would be taking a huge risk by providing you with our forces. My answer will not change."

"Surely you won't…"

"Get. Out." Basilio said with finality.

Robin stared at the larger man intensely, hoping that he would change his mind. However, Basilio was resolute in his decision, and so Robin could only despair at his inability to change anything. He lost his close friend, and he failed this mission. What was he going to tell Emmeryn now when he returned to Ylisse with her dead brother and the unfortunate news? That he died in vain?

"Shepherds…we have nothing more to do here. Vaike, Frederick. Let's take the body. Careful though, we do not want to further damage him." He laughed inwardly. There could be no worse damage dealt to those who are dead. It was more of a formality.

Vaike and Frederick nodded grimly. Frederick went to retrieve a XXXX to place Chrom on and make the trip home a little easier on them. Robin had comforted the still crying Lissa and Sumia, trying to appease Basilio's wishes and leave Regna Ferox. Basilio was right: Robin did not want to be the reason why Ylisse suddenly found itself warring against its northern neighbors. It was bad enough as it was with Plegia's constant provocations via proxy bandit strikes.

"Tough luck, kid." Flavia offered. "You should have won. Maybe things would have been different."

'Yeah.' Robin agreed. 'Maybe if I was a better tactician. Maybe if I was a little more cautious of Marth's skills and had planned accordingly. Maybe if I had fought with Chrom; shared my power with him…'

"There's no use mulling over the past." Robin said to Flavia, slight hint of venom in his tone. "What's done is done and cannot be undone."

"Smart words, kid." Flavia said. "You'll do fine." With that, she left the arena as well. Robin found himself alone in the middle of the arena, left with Chrom's body and a mind full of regrets. The stands were beginning to empty out, and the murmurs and whispers that filled the air had died down to nothing.

It was there that Robin collapsed to his knees. All of the pain he was holding in to save face in front of everyone had unleashed itself in a flood of tears. Robin slammed his fists on Chrom's blood over and over, with each subsequent slam pouring more of his blood onto Robin's face.

He only knew Chrom for a few weeks, but Chrom had demonstrated unbreakable trust and loyalty to him. Yes, he was an amnesiac who had no inkling of an idea of who he may have been, but Chrom helped him form an identity within the Shepherds. One that he would not ever want to lose. The Shepherds was his family…Chrom, his brother. Now, his brother was gone, and the Shepherds were fast heading down a road of self-destruction. He had nothing left. No family to be with. No home to go to. More than likely, The Shepherds will be officially disbanded the moment they arrived at Ylisstol. Who was going to lead them? Not an amnesiac from the southlands.

Frederick was more of a right-hand man. Although he could get things done, he was not the type of person who knew what to do for certain predicaments.

Lissa was worse off as a potential leader. As far as Robin could tell, she was pampered to be a princess. She did not understand what truly makes a leader; much less what truly makes a great person. Lissa was fine in her own right, but she was far from a suitable replacement for Chrom.

Vaike…no way.

Stahl and Sully were good cavaliers, but Stahl was too…normal and uninspired to take the reins. Sully was too feisty and headstrong. She'd probably get the Shepherds into precarious situations more often than not.

Miriel was...weird. He understood that she was a very intelligent woman, but Miriel tended to enter spells of "scientific pursuit." Unless leading the Shepherds led to some sort of discovery or advancement of science, she would have absolutely no interest in it.

Virion was an unknown. He apparently wasn't of Ylissean decent. As such, he couldn't be trusted to lead an Ylissean militia, despite his usefulness as part of the group.

And Sumia…she was a klutz. She had a unique talent to stave the hearts of beasts of burden, but that did not correlate to leadership capabilities. Although she was Chrom's apparent love interest, she just could not fit the build.

Robin felt like he was forgetting someone…Was he forgetting someone?

Try as Robin might, Chrom was the only real fit for leader of the Shepherds. He somehow mobilized this rowdy group of diverse people together with his charisma, kindness, and charm. There was not a single person within the Shepherds that did not like Chrom. Even Miriel seemed content with his presence.

As such, that was the only logical conclusion. The Shepherds will be disbanded indefinitely. There was nothing he, or anyone else here, could do about it. From a political standpoint, it would save the Ylissean government some money, considering that they no longer have to pay wages, security, and travel expenses.

He stopped slamming his fist on the ground. It was no use. There was nothing he could do to turn back the events of today and change things for the better. He was just wasting time, and holding the others back.

Vaike and Frederick arrived with the XXXX to carry Chrom on. Vaike had a white blanket to cover Chrom's body, so that nobody outside of the Shepherds would know who it was that died when they eventually make their grim march back to Ylisstol.

The three remained silent as the lifted Chrom's body and gently laid it over the XXXX. They picked up the XXXX, and with a simultaneous nod, began to walk away from the dreaded arena that sealed the fate of Chrom.

Robin did not know what lied in the future ahead. The issues will still remain that Plegian bandits will continue to harass the countryside, looking for chinks in the Ylissean armor to provoke a full scale war. Maybe…Chrom was the first line of defense against that end result. News of his death will undoubtedly reach the higher echelons of Plegian government, providing an excuse for them to pursue onwards with their agenda.

It was then that Robin knew what he had to do. Chrom was Emmeryn's foil. He was the sword of war, and she was the shield of peace. But a shield can do nothing but protect itself. It cannot retaliate against act of war efficiently (unless you were adept at using a shield as a weapon, but that's not what Robin was thinking of). He knew it would be a stretch, but Robin needed to convince Emmeryn to drop her fiercely pacifistic ways and prepare for the inevitable Plegian invasion.

Maybe Chrom's death will shake her to the core. Maybe she'll see the truth of the matter, as opposed to sticking doggedly to one core belief. Robin had no doubt of Emmeryn's capabilities as a leader, but if she had simply done some internal restructuring of the army, then there would not have been a need to rely on the Feroxi for support. Her peace-minded beliefs made her complacent, dully unaware of the events that were transpiring before her.

Robin hated to do this to her. In fact, it was one of the traits that Chrom had admired the most about Emmeryn. Her fiercely loyal personality, coupled with her desire to maintain a peace with all involved parties, demonstrated a sort of maturity that Chrom realized he did not have. But such a weakness was more of a liability than an asset, Robin lamented.

If he could not lead the doomed Shepherds, that was what he was going to do, at the very least. Emmeryn had complete faith in Robin, because Chrom had complete faith in Robin. There should not be an issue with her taking Robin's counsel.

With that goal in mind, Robin continued to march towards the Shepherds headquarters. They had a long march to walk.

* * *

**I won't be doing much of these Author's Notes, since I primarily want my fan fictions to be mainly content and not content w/ commentary, but it seems reasonable to explain the premise behind the story. I was playing Lunatic mode and I was in Chapter 4: Two Falchions. Chrom was fighting "Marth," and unfortunately died at his hands. I was wondering if Chrom had a different quote for dying at "Marth's" hands, but he didn't. I then thought about how was it even possible for "Marth" to actually be able to kill Chrom, and that was where my story began to bare fruit.**

**Some notes. Firstly, my story is going to assume that different universes are unique and cannot be influenced by the events of different universes. As such, Chrom's death is not going to cause a time paradox where Lucina cannot travel back in time and kill her father etc. etc. Of course, Chrom's death means that his universe's version of Lucina will not be born and that may or may not play a role in the plot to come.**

**Secondly, I wrote the back story behind Lon'qu and "Marth's" fight without consenting to the established canon from the official manga. Personally though, I felt like the manga was rushed and left much room for arguments, so I'd rather my version. Of course, it may or may not get more fleshed out with side chapters or whatever. Depends on my mood.**

**So there, I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed thinking of it. I'll probably be releasing chapters biweekly, probably not. Depends on my mood. And I've been very much enjoying competitive Project M to focus on fan fiction. Chapter 1 is almost done though, so expect that in two weeks.**

**4/15/2015 9:13 AM**


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